


Amnesia's Side Effect

by Nance



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amnesiac Castiel, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gabriel Lives, Human Castiel, Hunter Dean, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-12 23:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5684500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nance/pseuds/Nance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Amnesiac!Human!Cas & Normal Dean]<br/>All of a sudden, Cas winked. “What’s up, Dean?”<br/>Dean froze as a look of half shock and half amusement surfaced on his sharp features.  “Sam, d-did he seriously just wink at me?”<br/>-<br/>After Metatron took Castiel’s grace, human Cas was left to wonder the world on his own. Without angelic powers he was so vulnerable, especially when an accident left him remembering nothing but Dean. Not only that, it had a rather fascinating side effect: his personality seemed to change – to Misha’s.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Darkness, then light.

Chapter 1: Darkness, then light.

[Castiel’s POV]

 _Wait, how do I do this again._ Castiel thought to himself as he stood awkwardly in front of a urinal, feeling his bladder churn in protest of the lack of relief for the past 5 hours. The public bathroom in southern New Jersey smelled dangerously of week old feces among other unspeakable things, the putrid smell stung his nose and covered his senses. But he was more intrigued than disgusted.

“Dude, what kinda hardcore drug are you on?” A gruff voice muttered followed by the trickling sound of pee running down the urinal.

Castiel flinched and snapped out of his deep thought and felt his head spin in reaction to the bright lights. His sky blue eyes focused on a buff, tall guy with a beard way too long a couple urinals to the right and stared intently at him, without blinking until his eyes felt so dry they began to tear up. “Nothing.” He said curtly, emotion less.

The tall guys stifled a laugh and looked down at him deprecatingly, “yeah right. You might wanna wipe that tear away, little guy, I ain’t your lord and savior, no need to get so excited.” With that, he turned and walked out, the sound of heavy leather shoes echoing through the now empty bathroom in the dead of the night.

Castiel looked back down at his hands, confused and unsure of what just happened. Clumsily, he finished what he came to do and slowly made his way out. The cool spring air caressed his cheeks and for the first time he felt the tickle on his scalp of when wind blew his messy hair back. It’s all too new, too foreign and he wasn’t sure just how long it’s going to take him to get used to it, if ever.

Surrounding him are dark suburbs, a few turned on lights here and there, dotting the surrounding like little stars. Castiel can no longer taste the individual molecules in the air and he couldn’t help but feel his stomach clench in hunger at the thought of “taste” which connects to “food.” Patting his pocket he couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed, as he only have two dollars and a quarter…not enough to buy anything substantial, at least not until morning, when people open up their shops again. He’s only been on earth as a human for a week, mainly surviving in homeless shelters along with others like him. He’s met some interesting individuals, unfortunate, but intriguing never the less. He’s had some nice chats and shared some heart-warming moments but more often than not, they regarded him as “that mental weirdo who’s socially awkward and should keep distance from.” Human expression is one of the most amusing things to him, it takes so much deciphering and thinking to fully interpret what the person is trying to convey, and some people are so good at lying that it can get difficult. That was the reason why Castiel’s always staring at people; he’s studying them, trying to understand.

And he just couldn’t seem to understand.

Glancing at the dirty watch that he found in a dumpster a few days ago he realized that it’s already 2am. His head was beginning to throb dully from the lack of sleep and he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to sooth himself from uncontrollably passing out in the middle of the street. Other than him it’s just a few rats and very rarely, a car roaring pass him, radio turned on and bass vibrating through his chest. But most of the time there’s no one and he felt safe enough to walk in the middle of the road instead of picking his way through large black garbage bags piled near street corners. He’s making his way to an abandoned truck, where he’s decided to use as a shelter for the time being. It’s a short walk, approximately 10 minutes through a town called Burlington.

The fatigue or hunger or perhaps both might have caused it, but the world started to lag around him. Street lights blurred and houses around him spun; he rubbed his eyes hard to clear his mind, and when he lowered his dirty hands again, two large yellow lights were right in front of him.

—It wasn’t there, and then it was. Out of nowhere.

As his eyes adjusted he realized it was too late, the bright headlights of an SUV is merely 10 feet away, getting ever closer. The harsh light blinded him as he covered his eyes with his forearm in instinct.

Tires screeching.

Horn blaring.

 _Crash._ He felt a sharp pain as his skull hit the pavement.

And then there were none.

  

* * *

There was a series of beeping, echoing sound of walkie-talkies and the piercing siren of an ambulance. He couldn’t open his eyes but even so, he could feel a million needles in his hand and veins. Time slowed down, his mind became fuzzy and unfocused, and once again, darkness engulfed his consciousness.

 

* * *

 

 

When he woke again, everything seemed so peaceful at first and then came the urgent yelling that sounded so distant and soft then proceeds to go into a crescendo then finally, a cool hand plasted on his right cheek until his head was brought up right. He gasped and felt the oxygen mask cut the skin of his stubbled chin, then his eyes fluttered open.

_Alarm!_

His mind warned him as he tried to bring himself up, but of course, his body refused as he felt such a terrible white hot sensation of pain burn through his skull, he winced and fell back onto the soft white pillow.

“ _CAS?!”_ the voice said again, softer this time and he could hear the relief. The hand on his face relaxed as he blinked several times, then the white ceiling was staring down at him. No – not the white ceiling staring, a _man._ A man whose eyes are so green with golden flakes scattered near the pupil staring right down at him, eyebrows knitted together in obvious concern.

“W-who------?” he breathed out, mind still broken up and unable to form thoughts. _what happened to me?_ He closed his eyes and tried his best to remember. And he was scared, not because he is on the verge of dying, but because he _couldn’t_ , he couldn’t remember anything! Just that now, he’s in pain on a hospital with a man staring at him. Wait—no, something seems all too familiar with his deep voice and that green flannel shirt. Suddenly, a little piece of memory surfaced within his failing hippocampus, just enough for him to remember his name and the fact that, oh, he’s _fond_ of him. Slowly, Castiel smiled and tried his best to wink (although it looks more like a twitch) and croaked. “What’s up, Dean?”

Dean froze as a look that’s half shock and half amusement surfaced on his sharp features. His eyes widened as a cute smirked formed on his lips. Sitting more upright, he turned to a tall man standing behind him and asked, half joking. “Brother, did he seriously just say that?”

The tall man shrugged, he’s wearing flannel as well, but he’s a bit more buff and his brown hair is a lot longer. The thick side burns and soft hair falling and framing his sharp face perfectly. “I guess he did,” he said with a little frown, blue green eyes twinkling in excitement as he took a step forward so that he’s right next to Dean. “It’s good to have you back, Cas.”

Cas’s eyes regarded the man carefully, scanning him from head to toe. He dug, he tried, he thought until his mind is on the brink of giving out on him, but he couldn’t find it.

“Who are you?”

 

 


	2. Plan B

Chapter 2: Plan B

[Dean’s POV]

          _5 hours earlier that day._

            Dean Winchester’s dealt with so many different things in his life: demons, dragons, Eve the mother of all, Satan- you name it. But thousands of fallen angels chasing his ass across the country is something completely different. The angels fell just after the demon trials a week ago, and from that point on, God squad have been trying to find Castiel for “questioning”(or torturing, same thing.) and they figured out that their best chance is through the Winchesters.

            In a small town in Pennsylvania, Dean and Sam staggered into their motel room, carrying their series of rifles and knives with blood smeared across their face, sprayed across their jackets. Releasing a happy sigh, Dean collapsed onto one of the queen beds, stacking his feet onto the thick blankets.

            “Dean,” Sam said in a solemn voice as he placed his duffle back onto the small café table, pulling out his computer. “Your muddy shoes are going to ruin the bed sheets.”

            “Since when did you start caring so much about what I do,” Dean whines as he pulled his boots off and wiped some of the dried crusty blood off his chin.

            Sam opened his mouth but decided against it. Dean’s done what he’s asked, no need to start more immature arguments. With one thin finger, he turned on his laptop and a loud and rather sexual moan filled the room, followed by traditional Chinese folk music. “ _REALLY?!”_ Sam yelled frustratingly as he fumbled to mute the computer system then force quit the entire browser. “Do you know how long it took me to get rid of the virus last time?” he whipped his head around at his brother so fast that a few strands of hair got caught in his mouth.

            When his narrowed green eyes settled on Dean he was shocked and angered to see him laughing, a provocative smile on his lips as he said between chuckles, “ _that’s_ what you get for being bossy. Besides, why would you blame me for being bored while you were in the hospital dying? I was half hoping that you’d just wake up, walk to me and turn the computer off.”

            Sam face palmed and swallowed back an insult. _So hopeless._ He thought in his mind and bit back, “Well what you came up with in the end wasn’t so good either—I still don’t know if it’s the right thing!” With that, he felt the light hearted atmosphere slip away. _Ah crap._

            “C’mon, Sammy, not this again.” Dean said, suddenly serious. “I had no choice, Gabriel offered and it’s not like I was going to let you die.”

            “But who knows what he could have done to me rather than healing me? We’ve seen what harm regular angels can do, much less an archangel.”

            “Sammy, C’mon,” Dean said again and ran a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. “I had Gabriel trapped inside a circle of holy fire. Plus, he really didn’t seem bad because after all, he did save our life that day with the pagan gods, at least he seems to have morals.”

            “Okay Dean…” He said reluctantly then pointed briefly at the bathroom in the corner. “I’m going to um, paint angel proofing symbols in all of the rooms for safety.”

            Dean nodded, a sour taste in his mouth. With his hands the began slowly messaging his eyes and temples, feeling the stress of the past few days boil inside him and threaten to bring him down. Everything from Sam’s health to the angels and most importantly, his good friend Castiel. The last time he’s seen Cas was with Naomi warning him that Metatron is up to no good. Dean felt his heart sank. What if she was right? What if Metatron did something to Cas…? He shook the thoughts away and began praying. _Cas, if you can hear me, get your feathery ass down to this motel pronto and fill us in on what happened. We’re kind of worried._ But in the end, he did not answer and Dean was not surprised. He lied back and listened to the soft shuffle of Sam’s feet still in the bathroom.

            This peaceful moment lasted for 30 seconds until the classic rock ringtone of one of Dean’s burner cellphones ripped through the room. Dean rolled his eyes and crawled to his bag at the foot of the bed to retrieve it. Flipping up the screen only to see a foreign number from New Jersey. _Hmm…weird._

“Hello, to whom am I speaking to?” He said in a professional voice, just incase the other end thinks he’s an FBI agent.

            “Hello this is nurse Fruman from Abington Memorial hospital. Earlier tonight an unidentified patient was brought in from a car accident. He had no proper identification cards except a little note with your number written on it and thus the reason we’re contacting you. For documentation purposes, may we know what to refer to you as and your relationship to the patient?” the young female voice said in one breath without a pause.

            Dean pulled the phone away from his face, brows furrowed together as confusion washed over him, “What?” He said at first, unsure of how to react “Excuse me, who is this patient we’re talking about? May I know his characteristics to make sure that he did not get my number off an advertisement or some of that sort?”

            “Yes of course, the patient is approximately 5’11”, dark hair, blue eyes, he appears to be um, homeless. Also a long beige trench coat.” She added calmly.

            “ _Son of a bitch…”_ He whispered as dread washed over him, he knew he’d find Cas, but not like this. “Okay, refer to me as George Collins and the man that you speak of is my family. Which hospital did you say you were again? I am heading your way now.”

            “Abington Memorial hospital in New Jersey, the patient has been hit by a car and is currently stable. We will tell you more once you arrive.” With that, Dean cut the call off and muttered ‘son of a bitch’ yet again. And stormed into the bathroom, surprising Sam who’s painting the walls with the wild look in his eyes.

            “Dean, what’s wrong?” Sam said slowly.

            “Cas is in trouble.”

 

* * *

 

 

            The ride to the hospital was long and silent, the Impala’s motor humming as they sped through the middle of the night. Sam took a little nap in his shotgun seat[dw, his cake hole is shut] and Dean hummed to some of the slower songs playing on the radio. Road signs and occasional rest stations blurred past them as they traveled for what seemed like forever. And when the finally got to the hospital, the sun was just about to peek out from above the horizon and the lobby bustled with activity. Parking in one of the disabled parking spaces closest to the entrance they rushed in, they were greeted by nurse Fruman at the information desk. She’s pretty with short blond hair and cherry red lips but this is not the right time for that. Cas comes first.

            “Mr. Collins.” She acknowledged Dean and shook his hand curtly then her eyes went and looked at Sam and they shared a nod. “Just come with me.”

            “How is he doing?” Sam asked quietly as they walked through the long hallway toward the emergency care section, weaving past people with white lab coats.

            “It was a hit and run, the police is trying to get footage to find the person that did this to your family member. Keep in mind, though, it’s almost a miracle that he survived. Normally being hit by a car at 20mph would have instantly killed them but he pulled through with only three broken ribs and a concussion. It’s almost like there’s an angel watching over him.”

            _Angel my ass._ Dean thought and remembered the fact that every angel of existence is now trying to kill Castiel. “Concussion? How bad is it?”

            “Pretty bad, we’re not sure if it may lead to memory loss but we cant be sure until the patient becomes conscious.”

            _Memory loss._

            Sam and Dean shared a look of horror as the nurse pushed open one of the little rooms and there Cas was, a bandage around his head and eyes closed, an oxygen tube helping him breathe.

            “Thank you…do you mind?” Dean said and eyed the door. Taking the hint, she walked out and closed the door behind her.

            They sat on the tiny uncomfortable stools and studied the figure lying in front of them, Dean couldn’t help but feel anger bubble up: whoever did this, they’re going to pay for it. But even then, Castiel looked so peaceful and at ease, his features are relaxed instead of the usual uptight poker face he gives everyone. He felt the urge to put his hand on the man’s cheek.

            “Hey, Sam, why don’t you go finish angel proofing the room since that plan at the motel didn’t really work?”

            Sam smiled slightly and rose up, head almost bumping some of the equipment hanging on the ceiling and began making these signs in the corners of the room.

            Dean felt goggly as his eyes began to flutter close, he hadn’t slept for over two days and it’s reallying starting to take a toll on him. Before he knew it, he nodded asleep.

            When he woke up, Cas was starting to move in his bed, his head was shaking from side to side as if in pain. Alarmed, Dean put one of his hands onto Cas’ cheek to hold his head still, afraid that it’s going to make the concussion worse. Then suddenly, his sky blue eyes fluttered open as his pupils dilated, focused, then dilated again.

            “Cas, Cas, it’s okay, Cas!” Dean said in a soothing voice as Sam came back with two coffees in hand. Cas stared at Dean for a second, seemingly confused then all of a sudden, he _winked._ “What’s up, Dean.”

            _Well, that’s not normal._ “D-Did he seriously just say that?” He asked Sam, who walked forward and handed him a cup of coffee. He could feel the warmth traveling up his neck all the way to the tip of his ears.

            “I guess he did.” Sam cocked his head a little and cracked a small smile.

            Dean directed his eyes back to Castiel as both men stared at each other in wonder. But then Castiel focused onto Sam and asked genuinely: “ Who are you?”

 

 

* * *

 

            “ _Dude,_ what do you _mean_ it’s okay he literally just winked at me and he doesn’t even remember you!” Dean said in a hushed voice just out side the room with Sam leaning against the wall in front of him.

            “I mean, not gonna lie, I thought that was funny.” Sam said, shrugging.

            “ _DUDE. Inappropriate,_ this is a very serious case not one of your little jokes with whatever ‘deestiel’ is.” Dean waved his arms frantically in the air, attracting curious looks of several people passing by. “He doesn’t remember and the doctors wont do crap until they monitor him for like 5 more days!”

            “Dean, you need to calm down, Castiel needs some time and we’ll figure this out.” Sam reassured.

            “That’s what you always say.”

            “Then why don’t you go ask him yourself?”

            “Fine.” Dean pushed the door opened again as it released a piercing squeak. Sliding a stool quickly under him, he laced his fingers together and propped them onto the hospital bed.

            “Cas, what was the last thing you remember?”

            Castiel turned his head to face him, his dark hair splayed across the pillow in an adorable fashion. He winced as the movement caused a sharp pain in his head and grunted. “Huh, I don’t know.”

            “Cas, buddy, I need you to think because it seems like you don’t remember much and…that could really be dangerous.” Indeed it can, imagining Cas being captured and tortured by fallen angels and him not even knowing why hurts Dean more that he thought.

            “I remember waking up and see a cute guy staring at me.” Cas smiled and winked again, now obviously more conscious of the situation.

            _Not because of medicine then._ Dean cleared his throat as his eyes darted to Sam’s for help but Sam just stood near the door and shrugged, again.

            “I mean, before that.”

            “I don’t know--- it was all dark and then the first thing I saw was you… then…uh… somehow your name and only yours floated into my mind and the fact that my head hurts like shit and you have pretty eyes.” Castiel said thoughtfully, his eyes still fixed on Dean but the stare was soft and warm.

            “Anything else?”

            “Random facts, like if a female ferret does not have sex for a year, she will die. Or how the average length of an erect penis is 5.6 inches though I gotta say, mine is--- ”

            “You know what, that’s enough.” Dean said as he pushed himself away. Castiel looked disappointed as he pouted and looked at him through his thick lashes.

            “In general, just things that I have no reason to know but just _do_.” Castiel finally said. “It makes no sense though, why would anyone want to know how many genitals some type of lizard have?”

            Just when Dean was about to point the barrel of a gun at his head and shoot himself out of frustration, he felt Sam’s warm hand on his shoulder as he sighed, “What the hell happened to him? I did not expect coming back to _this._ ”

            “I don’t know brother, but I think we need to get some help…”

            “But how, at his state of health he can’t leave until he’s strong enough, unless we--” _no,_ he caught himself mid sentence. _It’s too dangerous._

            “We have no choice, Dean. Just like what you said, he’s family, we cannot let him die.”

            “So, Gabriel?”

            “Gabriel.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please review and bookmark it! if you want more then let me know in the comments section and I will try my best to update at a daily basis!  
> follow my IG: @sam_winchestr


	3. Chasing Miracles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter, will have fluff in next one, please favourite/follow <3

Ch3- Chasing Miracles

_[Dean’s POV]_

“He’s been here, without a doubt.” Dean said as he crouched below the small coffee table inside Castiel’s ward and pulled out a small, empty cardboard box still smelling sickly sweet from the chocolate that had been inside a moment ago. Castiel lied in his bed, sound asleep.

            “How’d you know it was him, could have been from some kid who stayed in this room before.” Sam replied skeptically as his eyes scanned the computer screen, looking for causes of memory loss and how to reverse it. So far, no luck.

            “See for yourself,” Dean pushed the box across the table where it twirled from the motion. On it read ‘M&M’ surrounded by blue decorations, nothing particular.

            “So?”

            “ _Inside.”_ Slowly, Sam took the box in his hands and found it filled with candy wrappers and as he shook it, they fell on the table like leafs. Peeking in, he was relieved to find a hand written note folded neatly into a rectangle and smoothed it out for deciphering.

            He cleared his throat and read: “’Sam and Dean, gotta take care of some angelic crap. Be with you in a min.’” He paused to shoot a look of annoyance at Dean who doesn’t look any more satisfied than he is. “Can’t…he be more descriptive? ‘angelic crap’ is not very informational.”

            “Awwww…would you have preferred if I wrote you an informational paper siting 30 sources like in your good old Stanford days? Sorry that wasn’t quite mentioned in your prayer.” A sarcastic third party chimed in. Surprised, in one swift motion Sam and Dean jumped up and pointed their guns at a smirking Gabriel, only hesitating when the familiar face registered itself in their minds. Gabriel, clearly proud with the grand entrance and sleek comment crossed his arms together, “Aren’t you just delighted to see me.”

            “What took you so damn long!” Dean demanded, tucking his handgun back into the waistband of his baggy jeans.

            “You should be grateful that I even came. I was with some cute gals and I could have done great without a prayer that involved me being cursed and some useless threats.” Gabriel reasoned back.

            “Um. I thought you were dealing with ‘angelic crap’ according to your informational note.” Sam pointed out and shook the little note between his thumb and pointer finger so that it flapped right in front of Gabriel’s face.

            “Ok. You caught me. Want to hear my full story? Here it goes.” Gabriel began as he propped himself onto the window still. “Thanks to y’all, all my archangel brothers are either dead or locked up in hell. Then there’s poor me; who have been avoiding all the drama upstairs for thousands of years then _boom_ , I have a good couple of dozens of angels with terrible terrible torn up wings chasing me down. Asking me rather rudely to use my archangel juices to help locate your friend Castiel. In fact, why am I even helping you, you hold a good deal of responsibility for my disturbance.” His eyebrows narrowed together.

            Dean hesitated and tried his best to not direct any attention to the bed in which Cas’ laying in. Gabriel probably hasn’t noticed him yet, or Dean has a feeling that he would not be as chill. “Uh, how does that have anything to do with you not getting precisely _here_ any quicker?”

            “Because they were _outside,_ Dean.” Gabriel exclaimed. “Those angels led by…uh…Bartholomew sensed my power some how, and they were just so close to finding me in this hospital—” He paused and slowly looked up from the cold floorboards. “—What are you doing in a hospital?”

            “We—” Sam started to speak but too late, Gabriel’s already looking at the bed. Emotions of confusion, anger and surprise formed on his face then he finally looked back at Sam, who still has his hand up in mid-air. “ _really.”_

            “Listen—we—” Sam started to explain with a forced little smile on his thin lips in hopes of looking sincere. But Gabriel clearly isn’t going to buy any of his bull crap as he stood by the side of the bed, face looking up at the ceiling.

            “He’s an angel, he should be able to heal quickly. Why in the world would you two dumbasses ever think Cas is so weak to heal himself?”

            “Well…” Dean walked forward, lips pursed. “Something is different with him. And he doesn’t seem to get any better…at least not in the last 4 days that he’s been here.”

            Unfortunately, all this ruckus and loud talking caused Castiel to wake from his long nap. He still has the bandage around his head but the bruises near his cheekbones had begun to fade-- from a deep purple to a light greenish brown. With one sleepy hand, he rubbed his eyes but winced when his finger brushed across the tender bruises. He swallowed back a bitter taste from all the painkillers that he’s been fed and raised his head feebly to scan the room, only to find three stern looking men staring at him. The closest one seems really scared and confused.

            “Hello guys!” Cas tried his best to sound cheerful but it came out low and raspy. He tried again, “What’s happening? Why does everyone seem so shocked to see this beautiful creature awakening from his beauty sleep?”

            Dean tried to hold back his chuckle. Something about the new Cas’ sense of humour gets to him every time. His quick and rather flirty comments make Dean want to jokingly swat him aside and laugh. But he’s too worried to admit to his fascination and right now, he’d do anything to have Cas’ memories back. There are just too many missing blanks they have to fill to find Abbadon, and of course, worse yet, Metatron. He doesn’t have time for anything else.

            “Uh, what’s wrong with him?” Gabriel said slowly, turning his head to look at Dean, who met his eyes with an equally befuddled look.

            “He barely remembers anything.” Sam confessed, “You _need_ to understand that Castiel is not the bad one here, those angels outside are. Please, just heal him so he can retrieve his memories and that’s all we ask and we will never bother you again.”

            Gabriel stood deep in thought. His gaze shifted from Sam to Castiel who now is smiling happily at Dean whose eyes darted from the bed to the two. _My brother Castiel had always been weird alright, but this really isn’t like him. He’s showing emotions almost as if…as if he has a human soul._ Gabriel sighed and looked at Cas. Who just seems so carefree and at bliss as he smiled up at Dean, they exchanged some light hearted conversation as Castiel’s hands reached up and covered the other man’s. He could see Dean tense up a slight bit under his layers of clothing. “This is peculiar.” He said under his breath as he moved up next to the two, eyeing apologetically at Dean. “Okay, but I might have to put him to sleep so it’s not going to be as painful.”

            Dean’s green eyes lit up at Gabriel’s agreement as he hesitantly pried Cas’ hands off his. “Cas, we need you to rest a little bit more okay? I’ll be here when you wake up.” He said in a soothing voice.

            Cas looked disappointed as the warmth around his cold hands disappeared. With the new man’s foreign face looking down at him, he felt uneasy. As if the man’s giving off some type of radiation, some type of power. “Who is that, Dean?”

            “No one bad, just relax.” Dean said calmly as he nodded at Gabriel. With his index and middle fingers, Gabriel lightly tapped on Cas’ forehead and he fell back, into a deep sleep. With a stern face, he hovered his hand above Cas’ ribs as a white light glowed and they could see the swollen tissue fade and turn back to normal. Same went with his head, the angry bruises and lumps from the collision dissolved, replaced by Cas’ usual peachy, smooth skin. He looked well, almost.

            “Did you fix him up?” Dean asked with a tight voice.

            “Almost, just not his brain yet, even for me it’s a little bit difficult because something about him is… cursed. But what I did find out is why he’s not healing.”

            “Why?”

Gabriel took a moment to take a breath, as if he’s about to break out something terrible. _“_ He’s a human now, Dean. He’s vulnerable.” He said solemnly. Sam and Dean stared at him in disbelief, eyes wide and jaws hanging down. It was all too much to grasp at one time: _Cas is human_.

            _Oh Cas…_

Dean couldn’t help but feel dread wash over him. That poor poor angel, what’s the world done to him? What did he ever do to deserve such unfairness? He clenched his fists and felt his nail bite into his skin. He was just so close to going up to Heaven himself, track Metatron down and stick an angel sword up his holy hole.

“Cursed? What do you mean cursed? Like witch craft?” Sam asked carefullt.

            “Yes exactly like that, you should check for hex bags on his clothing. I—” Suddenly all the colours drained from Gabriel’s face as he noticeably froze in the middle of the room, eyes darting outside the window to something neither Sam nor Dean could see. “They’re coming.”

            “Who?” The brothers asked in unison.

            “The fallen angels. Run, carry Cas with you. Get out of here.”

            _Swoosh!_ Gabriel disappeared as the first alarms began to sound: _‘SECURITY BREACH SECURITY BREACH, LOCK DOWN ENTIRE FACILITY.”_

            Without a second thought, Dean tore the dozens of needles out of Cas’ arms and scooped him up, together; they bolted toward the nearest emergency exit, heading straight for the Impala.

           


	4. Dreams

Chapter 4: Dreams

[Cas’ POV]

            His stomach quivered in an inexplicable manner as the man’s hand hovered toward his forehead. Every cell in his body shook in anticipation like similar ends of a magnet just about to meet and repel each other. Some sense of familiarity touched Castiel’s heart but there just wasn’t enough to truly explain, why Gabriel seems so…close.

            At the last moment he peeked up at Dean, who looked back at him and offered a reassurance smile, calming his jumpy heart like panacea. Then his consciousness dissolved into nothing.

 

* * *

 

They came like episodes: individual scenes floating up and soon replaced by another.

The scenery solidified around Castiel, it was bright, and the sun shone on him in the cloudless sky as soft zephyr hugged his body. Little patches of flowers clustered on the oily green spears of grass, dotting the flat plain like stars in the sky. An unbelievable calm washed over him: just, perfectly blissful. Like there are no worries, no trouble in the entire universe. His heart is so at ease, at ease because at last, he recognized it. It’s a Tuesday in 1953, the after noon when an autistic man drowned in his bathtub. A plastic kite fluttered above him, weaving through the wind like a soaring bird. Holding the string is a man in a red jacket, seemingly unaware that he’s going to die in a few short hours. Something about this place screams _home_ but Cas couldn’t grasp it, he just knew that it’s the day he chose to live an eternity in and it provided peace for him at times when he felt agitated.

In slow motion, he bent down to look at a fragile pink flower swaying in the wind and touched the soft texture with curious fingers. He noticed something: burnt ground. Lines of brown charcoal intertwined between the grasses, forming what looked like angel wings. Taking a few urgent steps forward he found that they are everywhere. Beautiful yet twisted wings one next to another, dispersed evenly on the lawn and suddenly Castiel’s viewing the entire place from birds eye, there must have been dozens, perhaps even hundreds of wings burnt onto the ground—his head spun along with the world and it felt as if he has a terrible heavy weight laid on his chest, suffocating him. And everything twirled away.

 

* * *

 

 

When the surroundings manifested around him again he’s in a dark, dirty basement room. A strange sign was written in blood on the wall and a sickening splash of organs and vessels formed a human shape right beside the symbol, behind three people. A conversation was going on between Dean, a middle aged man with a baseball cap and someone that looked scarily like…himself. Similar but … not really. See the Cas he’s looking had a belittling smirk on, chin raised high and looked at Dean as if he’s nothing but a puppet controlled by someone of higher power, like a pawn in a game he can just sacrifice anytime. _This is so wrong._ He thought to himself. But the other Cas looks unmoved, emotionless, soulless.

“I know there’s a lot of bad water under the bridge,” Dean said as he took a little step toward Castiel, looking at him straight in the eyes “But we were families once… I would have died for you. So if that means anything to you, _please._ I’ve lost Lisa, I’ve lost Ben, and I’ve lost Sam… Don’t make me loose you too. ” He shook his head and left his green eyes closed, face screwed up and broken, wishing that the other Castiel can see just how much pain he’s been through and how unfair the world is to his young life.

But Castiel smiled, humorlessly.

“You’re just saying that because I won; because you’re afraid.” He said and took little steps forward, staring Dean down until they’re almost nose-to-nose. “You’re not my family Dean. I have no family.”

Dean’s lips quivered as his heart shattered within him. He’s lost nearly everything he’s loved and now, even his angel, the one his mother said will watch over him as he sleeps.

 _No…NO._ Castiel cried out but the images in front of him have began to fade, as he ran he floated through the trollies on the ground like a ghost and no matter how fast he sprinted, he seemed to get further and further away from the scene; until it all disappeared like a distant star.

 

   

* * *

 

 

            Light flooded into his vision this time, two yellowish light bulbs blinked at him from the rough dark ceiling of a room. The room is nicely furnished, one queen bed placed in the middle of the room. Where people’s posters usually goes is instead replaced by all types of machine guns, machetes and dangerous weapons. Castiel should be freaking out right now, but instinct told him other wise. _Safe._ He rolled his body to the right and felt his spinal cords pop back into place.

            Wait—he stopped and thought. He _felt._ He’s _feeling._ Then he pinched his triceps and felt the blissfully familiar feeling of pain radiate up his nerves.

            “You’re awake.” A soft voice said beside him and he flinched so hard that his sore neck threatened to break in two. Looking at the source of the voice Castiel found dean, in a white bathrobe with his usual plaid shirt sticking up near the top. He looks good even with the dark circles under his eyes. In Dean’s hand is a thick leather covered book, which he closed to put aside onto the nightstand.

            _“Are you real?”_ Cas said as he reached out to run his hand through Dean’s messy hair. Sure enough, the silky texture slid under his fingers and propped right back to its untidy but stylish look. _If this is real then…what about the dreams?_ Cas thought uneasily as he remembered the coldhearted look and dead voice. _‘You’re not my family Dean.’_ “What happened?”

            “We called someone to fix you up, and he did.” Dean smiled and caught Cas’ hand before it fell back onto the mattress. “See?” he pointed at the fingertips. “No broken nails.”

            Castiel is so grateful that his eyes began to water up but he stopped as something inside him clenched up. Like he does not deserve all this care that he’s getting. He couldn’t remember much and he has a feeling that if he did, he’d be drowning in guilt. At least that’s what the dreams and the snippets of his past hinted.

            “In case you’re wondering. This is the Men of Letters bunker. It’s our safe house, nothing to fear for here.” Dean said with a cheerful voice although fatigue is laced within. “This is my room, how do you like my designing, bud?”

            “Men of Letters huh? Sounds fancy, though without a doubt that you’re as bright as when your perfect teeth sparkles under the light.” Cas spoke with flattery. “Your room? Jesus Christ, did you bring me here to just show off your large variety of weapons? It is pretty nice though except the fact that if any of them falls down I am as well as dead.”

            “Never loose your good vibe huh? I can get used to having you around to cheer me up. Anyway in my opinion this is the best bed in this bunker. _Memory foam_ , it remembers you.” Dean said with emphasis and huffed out a laugh as he messaged his temples, shoulders hunched. Turning around, eyes weary he added, “How was your sleep?”

            Castiel’s twinkling eyes suddenly froze as the little smile left his lips. Dean felt the air of the room change and sat up straight, placing a firm hand on Cas’ shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

            “Nothing to worry about, go rest.”

            “Stop being stubborn. I can tell when you lie, especially now that you are a … human.” He paused for a moment before the word human, as if it hurts rolling off his tongue.

            _Human? Then what was I before?_ He thought but decided to say something else instead; sensing that it’d lead to a lot of headaches and Dean doesn’t need more reasons to stress. “Dean…Was I a bad person?”

            “No, of course not.Why would you ever say that?!” Dean said quickly, squeezing his shoulder a little harder and pushing it back so that Castiel is now facing him.

            Castiel bit his lips as his eyes shifted around the room, landing on anything but Dean. He crossed and uncrossed his fingers, feeling the jumpiness inside him. _You should just let him relax, Cas. You’ve probably caused enough trouble for him, you can’t change anything about the past._ “I’m so sorry…I’m so sorry for what I did to you, back then, no one deserve the hardship you had to go through and I wasn’t there to help you along the way. I-I- abandoned you when you needed me the most.”

            “ _Cas,_ stop, what are you talking about?” Dean said anxiously, forcing his wild eyes to look at his calm ones. “We are family, we make mistakes, and we forgive each other. Whatever you’re talking about, you’re thinking too hard about it. See, I’ve done things that I am definitely not proud of, I didn’t give you nearly enough credit, I tricked you, I even betrayed your trust…” He stopped to take a deep breath, “so many people died because of me, Castiel. And that guilt is not going to leave, you just have to—”

            Castiel cannot change the past, but he sure can change the future. And he cannot watch Dean get hurt again. The remnant of the broken man in front of him breaks his heart and he’d do anything to place the little pieces back together.

            And he did what he could at the moment.

            Dean felt all the air leave his lungs as a pair of firm lips slammed onto his. The kiss was rough at first, but soon turned sweet. So full of forgiveness that they both felt their hearts tug them toward each other; like two broken halves finally becoming one and finding their rightful place in the world.

Dean’s hand loosened their grips on Cas’ shoulders as they fell freely to the curve of Cas’ elbows, closing around his biceps. Castiel raised his arms so that both his hands are at the bottom of Dean’s jaw, pushing his face up so that their kiss won’t break. Dean didn’t want to it break, he wants it to last forever. It’s just so calming, to feel warmth and power to seep from one person to another even if it’s a simple touch at the lips.

“C-C—” Dean sighed between little kisses, feeling his neck burning and heart hammering in his chest. He pulled back and blinked several times, the taste of Cas’ lips still lingering on his. “I—”

“Shh…” Cas whispered as he pressed their foreheads together and placed a finger on Dean’s full bottom lip. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please tell me how you liked it and bookmark it <3  
> follow my IG @sam_winchestr


	5. You're My Dream, Dean.

Chapter 5: You’re my Dream, Dean.

           

Without hesitation, Dean closed his mouth and the space between them. Their tongue danced as wild hands explored every inch of their toned bodies. Between their eager kisses, Cas’ hand trailed down Dean’s neck and lingered on his shoulder. Dean felt his skin thrumming with electricity as thin fingers nudged the neck of his bathrobe down, and unbuttoned the first few buttons of the flannel shirt; revealing a new expanse of smooth, pale skin for him to playfully dance his kisses over. Castiel brushed his perfect teeth purposely against Dean’s skin and he shivered, aroused. His kisses trailed lower, just above the other man’s collarbone.

“Your touch feels heavenly.” Dean chuckles at his pun as he leans his head back and laces his fingers within Cas’ hair.

“You have no idea.” He murmured against the warm flushed skin.

With that, Dean felt Castiel’s light fingers trail over to his knee a started up beneath the soft material of the bathrobe. In the process, he tickled Dean’s leg's bare skin in a sensual way. Each touch is filled with attraction, filled with power, filled with disarming magic. Dean felt like a pile of goo in his arms.

He slowly moved forward on the bed and lifted his arms obediently. The robe and shirt came off helplessly over his shoulders and fell freely to the floor. Castiel’s warm gaze dropped to the tattoo on Dean’s chest down his abs and down the happy trail where lingered for several seconds. "That's beautiful," he said, huskily. And their eyes met again.

"You see something you like?” Dean breathed and closed in, already missing the softness of Castiel’s lips on his body. Oh all those things I want to do to him.

"Yes, you're absolutely right." His eyes stared hungrily at Dean’s features, as if he’s really seeing them for the first time. Dean quite enjoyed seeing Castiel like this: wild, untamed and not a controlled robot like he’s always been. As if he could read minds, Dean ran one of his hands down Castiel’s fitting hospital gown and slid it across his crotch and the other untying it and sliding it off. Beneath the gown is just a plain t-shirt and his underwear. The light blue fabric fell to the floor like a leaf as Dean bit his bottom lip teasingly. Castiel’s eyes bulged in interest. And it wasn't the only thing bulging.

"You're so sexy…” Dean said in a pained voice. And he finally moved forward and laid a sensual kiss on the nape of Castiel’s neck. Cas moaned softly at the lovely sensations and splayed his fingers onto Dean’s bare back. Sliding to his hips, then to his thighs, where he stroked them eagerly.

Dean separated himself from Cas and grasped at the hem of Cas’ white tee. "Off—now," He demanded. Castiel grinned and released Dean’s legs to pull his shirt off over his head. Holy shit. He flung it off the side of the couch and bent to hold Dean by his face, lying gentle kisses everywhere.

Dean moaned into the kiss. "Mm..."

“Maybe you should get rid of those slippers.” Cas suggested.

He kicked off his shoes.

Castiel felt the bed dip as Dean straddled him and slid his hands up his bare chest, grasped him behind the neck, and pulling him in. Their lips clashed in a heated, chaotic kiss, involving tongue, loving bites and ragged breathing. Dean pinched Castiel’s hardened nipples and he felt any of his leftover self-control slip away.

Cas hooked his fingers in Dean’s waistband. His jeans, which hung low on his waist, came unbuttoned beneath his quick fingers. He laughed low in his throat as Cas urgently tugged them down, pushing them off his legs with his feet. Naked but for black boxers that made him look alluring.

Dean pushed Castiel roughly onto the bed they flattened themselves in yet another loving kiss. Castiel sighed, drunk on the intoxicating scent of his aftershave.

"Dean…..”

"Angel, shh, you have no idea what you’re dealing with here.” he murmured into Cas’ hair—it sounded like a warning. Cas felt him grin against his neck, and his underwear was ripped off and quickly tossed over the edge of the bed.

"I was actually quite fond of those boxers!” Cas protested through kisses.

"Well be prepared,” Dean growled. "I sense a lot of boxer-ripping in your future."

Dean pushed Cas’ dark hair out of his blue eyes and kissed him again. His index finger trailing a line of rippling pleasure between his pecs , down the abs, and to Cas’ crotch. He felt his hand closing tightly around his already hard member and began stroking in slow motion. Cas melted right there, in Dean’s arms. He thrusted his hips into Dean’s large warm hand, and moaned softly to fuel his desire. When Cas opened his eyes, blue ringed irises burning with a lust. Bingo, Dean thought, and snapped forward to capture his lips in a hot, heavy kiss.

Biting his bottom lip, Cas tugged Dean’s boxers down and pushed them off, not even bothering to ask for permission—they knew they were both feeling the same urgent desire, and they’d missed so many good chances, no way are they going to let this precious moment slip again. Once more, Dean grabbed hold of his member and slid his hand up and down the shaft. Cas released a growl deep in his throat, and smiled against his lips.

Panting heavily, Dean asked him to sit on the edge of the bed while he kneeled in front.

"Be prepared." Dean said as he looked through his lashes and lowered his mouth, just inches away from his member. And gently blew on it.

"My God…" Dean heard him whimper under his breath. And carefully, he began circling the head with the tip of his tongue, and then took him in completely, hands pumping the parts he couldn't reach with his mouth. Dean’s got to admit it: he's goddamn big.

"Oh…my god…Dean…" Castiel growled through gritted teeth and leaned his head back, rocking his hips back and forth. "You’re…. perfect."

Dean sucked on it even harder, around and around his tongue circled and was well rewarded when Castiel’s member twitched under his hot touches. Dean could feel the wetness began to gather on the tip of his member.

Then suddenly something pulled Dean up, taking him out of his mouth. To Dean’s surprise, it was Castiel, his eyes burning with lust, panting, he roughly threw Dean onto the bed and crashed on top of him. Dean could feel their erected members slipping against each other as they grasped wildly for one another.

"Oh, I’ve waited for this moment." Castiel looked awed as he admired Dean beneath the dim lamplight.

They aligned themselves, and slowly, Cas submersed himself in Dean, their bodies heaving simultaneously. Dean buried his head into Cas’ shoulder to keep from yelling out, and he gave a low groan, reacting to the blissful feeling of finally having Cas inside him. Their bodies fitted perfectly together like two pieces of puzzle. There was pain but that was soon flooded over by waves of pleasure, ecstasy as they began grinding together.

“Dean…” Cas moaned, tightening his grip. His arms threaded under Dean’s and hooked around his shoulders—a hold on him that satisfied the control Cas wanted over his body. Sex with Dean had been a trial and error experience at first, as they worked together to find the perfect way. And soon, the strange feeling turned into pure, pure pleasure and Cas again and again thrusted deep inside. Desire to feel pleasure overrode Dean’s senses as his sweet spot was hit perfectly with each rhythmic movement.

He held Dean with one arm, the other braced against the pillow as he hovered over, clear eyes slicing into Dean’s. Dean struggled for eye contact, for every one of his nerve endings was screaming in ecstasy. He buried his head inside the soft pillow and gripped the clean bed sheet for support. He’d love to be tipping his head back, closing his eyes, and feel the rough yet ecstatic sensation of Castiel’s expert moves. But he knew Cas would enjoy it more if he could see Dean’s eyes.

Dean bit his lip as he held Cas’ gaze, a whimper forcing itself out between his teeth. He was good, and he knew it especially when went in for a victory kiss, intensifying their passion.

“Baby…you…are…amazing…” Cas panted against him as their dance quickened even more.

Dean’s legs tightened around Cas’ waist at the peak of his pleasure as he felt this incredible fullness in his member. He could barely hold it back. The bed rocked into the wall, and Dean realized that he'd thrusted an arm out, grasping for something to curl his fingers around. Unfortunately he’d misjudged his place on the bed, and instead of grasping the bedpost, his hand hit the nightstand, knocking the lamp onto the floor. Dean’s fingers groped around wildly and brushed against the cool leather cover of his book as white stars exploded behind his eyelids, and he screamed Cas’ name a final time before his body went limp beneath his. Cas soon followed, collapsing on top as their stomach heaved in unison.

The world spun around them as they lied together in silence, bodies intertwined. Gently Castiel leaned over and whispered dreamily against Dean’s ear:  _“Don’t ever change.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun chapter for me to write, but was it a fun chapter to read? :) please review x


	6. Chapter 6- Troubles

_Sorry the time line is just jumping around once I finish the story ill address the problem._

Chapter 6 – Troubles

[Sam’s POV]

Sam was very surprised when Dean tossed him the car keys whilst they fled the hospital. Dean held Castiel’s sleeping figure close to him as they weaved through the panicking patients and staff, ducking their heads to seem less suspicious. Sam had an angel blade tucked inside his sleeve and ready to strike but he knows, the angels have fallen and they no longer have the advantage of teleportation or speed. Their odds aren’t so bad after all.

            Dean slammed open the nearest emergency exit door with his shoulder as its alarm stared blaring; Sam looked back and saw security guards rush toward the main entrance, Tasers ready.

            “ _Sam!_ 3 o’clock!” Dean said in a huffed voice as they rushed out of the doors and Sam followed his stare. Sure enough, their very identifiable car parked _right in front_ of the hospital door had attracted the attention of two angels: one male, one female. Skins on the faces of both vessels are starting to peel off and the late morning sunlight caught the reflective material of their blades under their sleeves.

            Sam silently cursed in his head for parking at such an obvious spot. But Cas was in trouble and Dean is not one to let his friend suffer alone. He felt the angel blade in his hand heat up as adrenaline started pumping in his body, fingers tight around it.

He breathed in and slowly, started walking toward the two angels. But just then, out of nowhere, someone’s fist collided with his jaw. His eyes blacked out for a moment as self-defense instincts kicked in. Turning around he raised his arm, perfectly blocking the attacker’s second blow. Unsteady, the angel swayed in his stance and that was enough time for Sam to kick him right in the chest. The angel fell back onto the asphalt ground and reached for his weapon. But before he could even get up, Sam’s angel blade was driven into his throat and immediately, his grace exploded within him in a bright flash of light.

He stood up and looked back at the car: plan change—it’s no longer an ambush. The two angel’s eyes darted from Sam to Dean and Castiel but eventually, settled on their target. No way are they going anywhere near Dean and Cas without going through him first, Sam thought and shot a quick glance at Dean along with a steady nod. The two angels slid their blades out of their sleeves as they picked up speed toward the three. Sam stood his ground, evaluating their fighting pattern and the best method to put them down. The guy attacked him first, his thin blond hair flying in the wind and repeatedly getting in his eyes. Sam could tell, the angel’s quite… amateur at being on earth. A smirk painted itself on his thin lips as he looked at Sam dangerously and he lashed out, sharp end of his blade barely even grazed Sam’s hair as Sam leaned back naturally. At the same time, the angel’s other hand that was meant to be closing around his neck was intercepted halfway then twisted. The smirk dissolved on his face as he yelped in surprise and pain as the crackle of bones breaking sounded from the point of collision. He tried again to stab Sam in the stomach but was sidestepped and wrestled to the ground, soon followed by the bright light as the angel blade pierced itself through his abdomen. Sam clenched his teeth as he pulled the blade out. _Two down, one to go._

Returning his attention to the third angel, his eyes connected with hers briefly as the origin of the strange blue glare struck him. He realized in horror: she’s using the angel radio for backup. Better be quick before others come. He took two long strides toward her as she snapped out of her focused trance and ducked just when Sam threw his punch.

“Nice try, ape.” She said venomously as she got up and the two circled each other. The angel twirled her shiny blade in her hand as if it’s a toy and she knows it by its molecules.

“I’m not here today to chat.” Sam bit back and charged. Punches were exchanged and she was very skilled within areas of combat. Before, Sam wouldn’t even have stood a chance against her but now with most of her energy gone from the fall, she’s just another tricky target. The angel threw her forearms up to block Sam’s blade, but he stepped to the side, pushed the woman’s elbow down and away, caught her head, and rolled her into the floor. She gasped but with her small form, managed to slip out of his strong grasp. Turning around, she quickly recovered and with one swift motion sent the blade straight toward Sam’s heart. But luckily to Sam’s experience, he easily rolled his hand under her wrist, and drove her hand around her back and down. The blade slipped out of her fingers and clattered onto the floor. Totally exposed, she too, soon turned into another dead vessel sprawled across the ground.

He ran a hand through his messy hair as he stood up and collected her blade: you can never have too many. Looking at Dean, he seems so defensive with one arm pressing Cas’ head tightly to his shoulder and another under his knees. Dean stared at him for a brief secondx as alarm continued to sound in the distance and finally, they sprinted for the impala as the first angels began pouring out of the giant spinning doors.

“Gogogogogo!” Dean shouted as he pushed Cas into the backseat and then followed in himself. Sam jumped in the drivers seat and started the engine; Doors slamming shut, engine purring and tires squealing, they managed to drive in reverse out of the parking lot just before the first gunshots were fired.

 

* * *

 

Even driving above the speed limit it took Sam 18 full ours to arrive at the bunker. Now and then, he’d glace at the rearview mirror and see Dean looking over Cas as he sleeps, worried.

_He can tell._

“Dean, maybe you should get some rest.” Sam said quietly, taking his eyes off the plain highway as the sun sets around them.

“I’m fine, Sammy.” He replied, brushing it off even though he did not sleep for the past day and half. “You know, before Gabriel left, he said something about it being a curse…did you check on him for hex bags?”

Sam paused for a moment as he realized that because of the hurry, they’d forgotten to get Cas’ personal belongings. “Crap.”

* * *

 

On the bright side, one of the many perks of being a demon hunter is having numerous fake IDs. Pretending to be a federal agent he managed to persuade the hospital into sending him the clothing in an express flight and it arrived half a day later. After they got to the bunker late at night, Dean carried Cas into his room _“It has the biggest bed, and it is the most comfortable. Cas deserves something nice because…because he’s been homeless for the past week.”_ He’d said to Sam.

Sam sat by one of the long tables in the main area and decided to read but before he knew it, he was consumed by his fatigue as well.

When he woke up, the package has arrived and he carried it into the dungeon and sat it onto the small lonely table in the center of the demon’s trap. He glanced at his watch: 10:30 am. They should be up now but the entire bunker seems oddly asleep except for him and the shuffling of his boots. Hastily, he tore open the wide packing tape and pulled out a blood splattered dress shirt – he patted the shallow pockets: nothing suspicious. He went through all articles of clothing and finally, lifted the familiar beige trench coat out of the paper box. It looks so dirtied with several rips near the bottom…but it’s still a part of Cas. And there it is. His fingers closed around a small hex bag tucked neatly inside the right hand side pocket and pulled it out: bingo. The bag was clearly made in a rush, the black velvety material looks as if it’s torn off and tied with a piece of old grass.

He recognizes the material

_Crowley._

He flicked opened the lighter and sat the tiny object on fire as it bursted in a spurt of blue flames. If it all goes well, Cas should have his memory back and they can go on from there: find Metatron, find Crowley, save the world. Easy, right?

Of course not.

The last of the left over ashes fell to the floor as Sam patted his hands on the side of his jeans, ready to get back to finding them a case. But as he walked down the long hallway, he heard footsteps; Then a few louder thumps from someone running.

“Sammy?!” Dean’s voice echoed through the corridor.

“I’m here!” Sam called back and picked up his pace. Something is wrong.

Soon enough they crossed paths at the kitchen and the wild look in Dean’s eyes scared him. His eyes quickly darted over Dean’s appearance. His hair is a total mess and red marks peeked out from the collar of his tight black t-shirt.

“Are you hurt?” Sam stepped forward and put his hands onto each of Dean’s shoulders.

“ _No.”_ He said almost too quickly and looked away for a millisecond before that stern and angry look reappeared on his face. “Sam, we gotta _go.”_ He said as he turned around and out of Sam’s grasp, heading for the door.

“What do you mean ‘we gotta go’?” He said as he grabbed his grey jacket from the hangers and threw it on, struggling to keep up with Dean’s long strides. “I mean—how’s Cas doing? Did he get better, I found the hex bag and burnt it.”

“Yes…I mean, no.” Dean said absentmindedly, accidentally knocking a book down from the edge of a desk.

“What’s wrong?” Sam stopped in his track, eyebrows furrowed together and refusing to continue until Dean spills the beans.

Dean slowed down and looked back, befuddled by Sam’s sudden lack of movement. He swallowed and finally looked straight into his eyes, they were glassy and weary. “They got him.”

“ _Who?_ ”

“Bartholomew.”

“But _how?_ Wasn’t Cas in the bunker with you? When did he leave? _Why_ did he leave?”

“I don’t know, Sammy.” Dean closed his eyes and tucked on his hair as if he’s in pain. “All I know is they have him.”

“I—” Sam stuttered in disbelief. “Let’s go then, tell me everything you know along the way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you like it, please leave a review so I have a reason to write more! :)  
> be sure to book mark it <3  
> follow my IG? @sam_winchestr


End file.
